


By The Sea

by innersanctuaries



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Gen, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Steve Rogers deserves to be happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 12:39:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16197716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/innersanctuaries/pseuds/innersanctuaries
Summary: In which Steve gets his happy ending.





	By The Sea

**Author's Note:**

> So, I haven't posted a Marvel fic for a whole-ass year. I haven't written one that wasn't previously sitting in my drafts in two or three years. Yet here we are, entirely because I'm crying over Chris Evans tweeting about his last day as Steve Rogers. 
> 
> This is entirely for one of my best friends, Sophie. I can guarantee you that there is not a single other human being on God's green earth that loves Steve more than she does. He deserves a happy ending, so I'm fucking giving him a happy ending.
> 
> I hope you guys (especially Soph) enjoy this! 
> 
> Song inspo is Shrike by Hozier
> 
> (https://youtu.be/EWLqdAJbu0A)

 Smoothly, so smoothly, Steve’s paintbrush left beautiful trails of color in its wake. He’d only ever been able to dream of owning the tiny tubes of paint lined up next to him, but here he was now. The canvas and easel he had before him, they’d always been considered luxuries. Steve smiled to himself and remembered the rickety easel Bucky made him for his twelfth birthday.

 

 Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath of air and relished the way his lungs stayed strong. He sat and listened to the sound of the ocean, feeling calm wash over him like the swift and salty waves. Opening his eyes, he dipped his brush back in the green, brow furrowed as he tried to mix the right shade of blue for his painting.

 

 In the other room, he could hear an argument breaking out. He knew it was over something stupid, like who got the TV remote, or who had to wash dishes today. Gone were the days of the Accords and infinity stones. They’d all won. They’d all made it, and they would keep on making it. 

 

 A knock on the door made him still his brush and look over his shoulder, grinning when Bucky popped his head in the room. “Hey Buck, what’s up?”

 

“Just wanted to check in on you,” Closing the door behind him, he grabbed a stool and dragged it over to sit next to Steve. Quietly surveying the painting before him, Bucky’s face softened along with Steve’s heart. “She’s beautiful, Stevie.”

 

 “I can’t get her eye color right. I can see it in my mind, but it just won’t translate onto the canvas.”

 

“She’s your ma, you have her eyes. Try looking in a mirror, maybe that’ll work?” 

 

 A yelp and a crash came from the next room over, followed by complaining that sounded suspiciously like Clint. Another crash made both of them wince, hoping their friend hadn’t done anything to earn himself Natasha’s wrath. 

 

 “What’s going on out there?” Steve chuckled, happy that he could do that without there being anything weighing on his heart.

 

“They’re trying to figure out what to watch tonight. It’s turning into a real bloodbath, I had to escape somewhere.”

 

 “So  _ that’s  _ why you’re in here, huh? Here I was thinking you actually wanted to be with me!”

 

“Shut up, punk. You know I’d be here all the time if I could be,” Ruffling his hair, Bucky shot Steve a grin when he squawked and batted his hand away. “But the artist needs his space, right?”

 

 “The artist has his space and still can’t figure this out,” Putting his paintbrush down, he glared at the painting. He thanked the heavens that he didn’t have laser vision. 

 

“Can I try?”

 

 Bucky didn’t wait for an answer, they both knew he would say yes. Shooing Steve away, he hopped into his chair and stared intensely at the paint-smeared palette. Steve watched him scan the tubes of paint, tracing over some with his new metal arm. 

 

 They still had their differences, and it would take time to heal, but Tony had made him a new arm. It was impressive, especially because Tony had to swallow his pride to ask Shuri to help him make it. Nevertheless, they’d made Bucky the perfect arm. Sometimes, Bucky would tell Steve how incredible it was for his arm to stop hurting. For it to finally be the perfect size and weight. For that, Steve could start to forgive Tony.

 

 Picking up a nearly empty tube of paint, Bucky carefully took just enough to mix into the paint already on the palette. He held it out to Steve for his approval, eyebrows raised. 

 

 It wasn’t surprising that it was perfect. Somehow, Bucky always managed to do that. “You got it! How did you do that so quickly?”

 

“I looked at you, dummy. It’s like I said, you have her eyes.”

 

 Pulling Bucky into a tight hug, he blinked away tears. It had been so long since he could do this, so long since he could just stand in Bucky’s arms without the threat of an incoming fight. These were the moments he cherished. 

 

 “Thanks, Buck.” 

 

 Not even bothering to sit back down, Steve snatched up his brush and brought the love and sunshine in his mother’s eyes back to life. The world around him disappeared, he lost himself in memories of her. 

 

 So many times, she’d gone on about how she’d take him to the beach one day, when he got better. They both knew he never would, but she swore up and down that they would go. Steve always thought he’d be the one to go first, but in the end he was the one watching her being lowered into an endless grave. 

 

 He was finally here, in a cottage on the beach. Steve was here with his friends, the people that had become his family. The rays of sun coming in through the window and the salt in the air were constant reminders that this newness, it was real. All of this was real. 

 

 Putting the brush down, he took a step back and watched. He saw the painting coming to life, his mother walking barefoot on the beach. Her smile shone like the sun itself, eyes glittering like the most precious of stones. She was finally where she belonged, and so was he.

 

“She’s beautiful, Steve.”

 

 “I know,” Leaning into Bucky, he wiped his face on his shirt, smearing paint on it. Bucky didn’t seem to mind. “You never told me why you came in.”

 

“I wanted to check on you. Also, everyone’s battling it out over what we're watching tonight. Thought I might remind you that it’s your turn to pick something.”

 

 Rooting around in his pocket, Steve pulled out his little notebook. His little list of things he needed to catch up on, something he’d been working on for years, had almost everything on it crossed off. In fact, he only had one last thing to do.

 

 “How about the last episode of I Love Lucy?”

 

“I Love Lucy it is!” Throwing the door open, Bucky sauntered out of the room. 

 

 Faintly, Steve could hear Bucky telling everyone his choice of entertainment, followed by groans and one ‘Yay!’ from Clint. Reaching for his pencil, he reopened his notebook to the final item on his list. 

 

_ I Love Lucy _

 

 He looked around at his house, filled with paintings of his own, filled with photos of happiness and a new family. It wasn’t just a house, but it was truly a home. After all these years, Steve Rogers had found a family, a home, and happiness. With a smile, he waved his mother goodbye for now. Scratching off that last item, he went to join the others. 

 

~~_ I Love Lucy _ ~~

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, I'm an emo crybaby right now. I love him and I love Bucky and I just love them!! Help me!!!!!!
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed it! Please comment feedback, it helps keep me motivated and helps me know what you guys do and don't like!
> 
> Follow me on Instagram at @archangelica_angelica or on tumblr at innersanctuaries if you want to get in touch or just to watch me shitpost!


End file.
